Cicatrix Manet
by Stormecho
Summary: The world is ending, with fire and pain and the rage of demons. Kiba Inuzuka wants a second chance, and he'll go through hell to get a different - better - future. But that hell has plans for impulsive pawns with dreams. /Strongly AU, timetravel!fic/
1. War

**AN: **Pretentious latin title ahoy! It means "the scar remains" and I thought it would be fun. Working title was "Fangs of a Paradox" but I came up with that in about two seconds, so. This is an experiment that I _totally _didn't start for NaNoWriMo... and failed. Any updates will be really erratic, because I already am writing Legend's Rage and I haven't played around in the Narutoverse yet. Once LR finishes, I might devote my time to making this awesome. Until then, enjoy.

**Phase One: War**

Blood. Blood, blood, blood. Blood from him, blood on the white fur he gripped – _damn it all_ – and blood ahead and behind, according to his nose. He had been proud of his senses, usually. A nose keener than a nindog's, after all. Better than any normal canine, and Akamaru's was just as good. The _perfect _scouts.

He was almost regretting that keen sense of smell now. The reek of blood, metallic and so strong it felt like he was tasting it every time he took a breath – it was everywhere. Unfortunately, he couldn't close it out. It was unfortunate too that things had gotten so bad – so fucking bad – that he was almost used to missions where he and Akamaru were blood-spattered. If they had been kept in teams, this wouldn't have been a problem; Hinata could easily have healed their wounds, but his own team was far behind, fighting off the freakish plant-guys that had decided that destroying Konoha again was what they needed to do.

He stifled a growl. This was all _wrong_. He was separated from his team – he had always thought of them as a pack, him, Shino, Hinata and Kurenai-sensei, a pack that would always stay together – and if that hadn't been bad enough, some faceless ninja had managed to land a few lucky hits on him and Akamaru. He hadn't been so lucky to evade Akamaru's jaws, though, and was lying dead in a bush now, because they hadn't had any time for interrogation. It was all about speed, which was why he was here, riding Akamaru through a forest and trying to sort the air out despite the stench of blood. Akamaru was having less trouble, as it was instinctive to ignore his own scent when tracking.

_Harsh, hot air, coarse grains of sand, heat so strong it pounds –_

Akamaru slowed, head tilted to the side and whining softly. A friend, or at least an ally, though there was caution in how the dog held himself, still wary. Kiba breathed out and leaned forward to scratch Akamaru's ears with one hand, the other checking the kunai wound. Shallow and already clotting – not a problem. He pulled out his own kunai and trimmed away some of the fur to let it heal properly, and then settled in for some proper ear-scratching, an involuntary grin appearing when Akamaru mock-growled, tossing his head and waving his tail like a banner in enjoyment.

"Hey, Gaara," he acknowledged, not looking up. He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose at the smell of sand – but there was no longer the hidden promise of darkness and spilt blood, not since the bijuu had been extracted. It was something of a relief. Instead of a weapon with brittle sanity, he was facing a leader now, in control of his own pack and someone to be respected. Besides, Gaara's scent was far better than blood, and it was easier to concentrate.

"You came here quite quickly. I expected a messenger bird," the other replied, stepping out from the undergrowth. He wasn't in Kage robes, but wore a dark coat with some sort of chest armour, and his eyes showed no surprise despite his words. Gaara always seemed like a cold bastard, but Kiba was glad he was with them. Konoha needed allies badly – no longer was it the superpower that towered over the other villages, thanks to Orochimaru and Akatsuki. Finally freeing one hand from Akamaru's head, he flapped it in dismissal of messenger birds.

"They'd have to find you, for one thing, and they're easy to take out. Me and Akamaru are a lot faster, we can smell ya, and no one can take us out," he boasted, knowing that it wasn't true, right now. What mattered the most though was that they _were _fast. Hopefully fast enough to not get killed.

Gaara's icy blue gaze did not waver. "You have the scroll?"

"'Course I do." Sliding off, he rubbed Akamaru's chin before extracting a scroll from the holster that had been wrapped around his dog's foreleg. "Here it is. Useful information and all that, so if you get a wave of plants, you'll know what to do."

"Hn," the Kazekage replied, taking it and cracking the seal that bound it with quick, efficient movements. His eyes scanned it, no doubt deciphering the code in his head or something like that. When not insane, Gaara tended to be alarmingly smart and good at – well, everything. Especially crushing people he didn't like. Luckily, Kiba did not fall under that category, but what was strange was the he had come out here himself – surely a sibling or Baki would have been able to serve the same purpose?

"I know you thought it'd be a messenger bird, but _I _thought it'd be one of your ninja. What's up?"

"Madara. He appears to have shown interest in some sort of base near here," Gaara said tonelessly, pausing when Kiba started to swear. "Can you perhaps wait until I'm finished?"

"There's more?" he asked incredulously.

"_Yes."_

"Fine, fine, what else?"

"The base has long since collapsed – it was originally underground, and the ground and walls weakened enough that it is now easily accessible. Perhaps it was one of Orochimaru's bases, which could explain Madara's interest. It is good that you are here."

"Fuck, fuck – why is it good that I'm here? We're practically useless," he said, hearing the growl start up in his chest, all frustration and fear and a mountain of regret that they were so _useless_. Speed was one thing, and he and Akamaru could track something through rain or snow, but they just didn't have the constant power to go up against someone powerful, someone with massive chakra reserves, someone who _planned _every single move and doubtless had been playing puppeteer for a century...

Someone like Madara.

"You're mistaken," Gaara intoned, and there was some odd catch in his voice that made Kiba lift his head, eyes narrowing. "We are not going up against Madara. We are going to raid the base before he gets here."

He grinned, knowing it was more a savage baring of teeth than a polite expression. "Well, why didn't ya say so? I'm up for something like that." Beside him, Akamaru barked, tail still wagging. This was something they were _good _at, getting in, getting out, hopefully far too quickly for Madara to stop them. "Well then, let's go!" He leaped onto Akamaru's back, hunkering down to let him run quicker. Gaara raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know where to go?"

Kiba barked a laugh. "Hell no, but if it is one of Snake-face's bases, it's going to _reek_. There's no way I could miss it." And with that, they were off, with the heady rush of wind as they moved at a speed that few ninja could boast about. There was little effort involved – there was just the destination, and they needed to go there, so... they went. There was no need to complicate things. Shino had once said that his kind of thinking was what had let him achieve that kind of speed in the first place, kind of like what Naruto did.

It might have been a compliment, an insult or just a neutral statement – it was hard to tell with Shino. It might have been all three, really. Not that it mattered, because thinking simply might not do much in politics and tactics, but it sure helped keep him safe. If he thought beyond the current goal, the hunt or the mission, he would worry, and he had seen what that did. He had seen the indecision that plagued Sakura, Naruto and especially the geniuses like Neji and Shikamaru. They worried, because they could see farther than he ever would, and seeing far came with the price of being able to predict what would happen. Seeing the potential consequences of any action only made it harder to actually act.

It might make him stupid in their eyes, as Sai had once told him, but so what if he was an idiot? At least all the planners and worrywarts had one person, just _one person_ that would do what was needed. They could give him a direction and a name and nothing else, for all he cared. At least it _helped_. It might have been stupid, but it felt often like all of the – what was it they were calling them again? The Konoha 12, thanks to Gai's team? - they were _all _his pack, and seeing the strain put on them by the war... It hurt. It always did. He could still remember when he and Naruto boasted to each other, when Sakura and Ino vied for _his –_ his name had been taboo for long enough among them that he didn't want to say it, even now – affections. Being a shinobi in general forced anyone to grow up quickly, but somehow it seemed that the threat now had been worse than any of the previous wars.

Or maybe that was just his own, biased thinking.

True to his word – and Gaara's suspicions – the base was one of Sound's, and if he had fur, he would have been bristling. Under his hands, he could feel Akamaru's hackles rising at Orochimaru's scent. The dry, papery scent of shed snake skin, combined with the oozing darkness of his chakra, venom and musty scrolls. It was faded, though, and if it had been visible it would have been wispy and transparent – he had not been here in a while.

The base itself, when he saw it, was a ruin. A surprisingly small building, unadorned, it was crumbling, the roof caved in. Vines and creepers had repossessed most of the walls. Dropping to the ground, Kiba cracked his knuckles, patting Akamaru's shoulder for comfort.

"_You're scared?" _Most people didn't know how he could understand Akamaru, they never heard anything except perhaps the quietest whine – they didn't see how even the slightest shift in movement said something, noiseless and as complex as any language.

"No, of course not," he muttered, scowling. "We've done this before, eh? Let's go." He knew his own scent and body language gave the lie to that, because his stomach churned at the thought of Orochimaru, a reflexive fear of the monster that had once been a legend. He was dead though – or something. The 'or something' would have made Shino berate him on not knowing the difference between the snake-faced bastard and the somewhat less snake-faced bastard that was running around now. Regardless, the latter bastard hadn't returned to his master's old bases, which was probably why there was nothing alive in here.

The place would have been unnerving in the dark, with only torches for lighting, but the hole in the roof ruined it. The inside wasn't spectacularly interesting: shelves of scrolls that, when he went to check them, only covered general topics. Nothing forbidden, nothing exciting. In fact, there was little else to arouse any interest. Some suspicious vials stood, neatly arranged in racks and labeled, but they smelled clean – as if they had never been used, according to Akamaru. "Well, this is a pain in the ass," he groused.

There was no way in hell the place was as empty as it seemed, and Orochimaru had a tendency to have burrows underground anyways. He prodded at the bookshelves, but he was far more interested in the floor and any potential trapdoors they could find. Akamaru was far more useful at this task than he was, to tell the truth. Pawing at the ground, the dog could tell the difference from stone foundations and stone placed over an entryway, and after a frantic few minutes of searching, with both checking the air to see if Madara had arrived yet, Akamaru barked. The sound was quiet, so as to not carry, but Kiba heard it clearly, and sprang back to his partner's side. "This one?" he asked, and with a soft 'whuff' as confirmation, he took out a shuriken and poked at the edges. No mortar – this was the right spot. Gripping the flagstone, he hefted it up, the effort lessened by the fact that the other side had hinges that, while somewhat rusty, still worked.

Tipping it back, he eyed the hole doubtfully. It was big enough to go through for a _human_, but Akamaru would have trouble. "I don't know..."

"_I will stay here," _the dog answered without hesitation, beating his tail on the ground to assure Kiba that nothing would happen. He grunted.

"Howl if I need to get up here fast," he murmured, giving him another head scratch, much quicker, before eschewing the ladder and simply dropping down the hole. He rolled on landing, already analyzing what he smelled and heard to detect enemies. At the most, he'd have to be wary of rusting traps and curious rats – nothing worse than that. Still, he twitched a kunai into his hand, holding it ready. As he walked down the hall, ignoring the scent of fungus and the lingering dried blood, he saw... nothing. The rooms that he looked into were cells or stripped utterly bare, nothing left behind except unused braziers and useless weapons.

He scowled. This wasn't going anywhere quickly. What would Madara want with a dump like this? There was nothing here! Still, he kept going, not too fast to miss anything. Sometimes he searched for some sort of hidden passageway, but there weren't any that he could tell. Frustration mounting, he ran into what was definitely the last room, and performed the usual check, examining the walls, floor and ceiling. There was another shelf, but it was empty, and in growing anger, he pushed it down. It went far too easily, crashing down onto the floor without much effort at all.

As if to taunt him, in the most cliched place he had ever seen anything hidden, there was an alcove. Hiding things behind bookshelves was never smart – it would be revealed with the weakest of jutsu – so either Orochimaru had rapidly become senile, or it was protected with something far sturdier than a bookshelf. He idly threw his kunai at the alcove, not expecting it to even hit, and true to his expectations, it didn't go anywhere near. Seals etched into the stone of the wall suddenly flared to life, and the kunai was sent spinning back. Avoiding it easily, he approached the wall, tracing the seal with a clawed finger, never actually touching. That would be stupid – no doubt it would turn into a snake and bite him, or something. It didn't look like anything he had seen, but his knowledge of seals was... painfully limited. One thing was for sure, though – they were drawn in blood.

_-war end-_


	2. Armageddon

**AN: **And the crazy AU-ness continues. As you might be able to guess, I wrote this before the war broke out in the manga, and thus guessed about, well, everything. And then I threw in things as they happened for about two weeks and then after that it didn't matter. I had far too much fun writing this chapter, honestly.

**Phase Two: Armageddon**

There was no sound from Akamaru, and Kiba forced down sudden panic. He was underground, in one of Sound's bases, and if there was trouble he might not be able to hear a warning. Just _great_. He had to get out quickly, and it didn't look like he'd be able to get the scroll out. He had never heard of barrier seals before, or anything that used blood other than a summoning contract – the only barrier he could think of was the one the Sound Four had used to kill the Hokage. This didn't look anything like that.

Something hissed, and his head snapped up, looking around for an enemy as he fell into a battle stance. A few specks of dirt fell past his cheek, and he turned to watch them fall, before looking back up with a sinking feeling.

Sand?

The building groaned as more sand trickled down. He took this as his cue to _get the hell away_, eyes fixed on the sudden crack in the ceiling. Sand was flowing down quickly now, pooling on the floor in a little neat heap. It didn't take much longer, and Kiba kept himself flattened against the farthest wall, watching with dismay as the stone crashed down, Gaara riding serenely down on a wave of sand that had apparently been dense and heavy enough to make the floor buckle.

"What the _fuck, _Gaara?" he yelled, hoping the rest of the ceiling didn't choose now as the perfect time to collapse on him.

"You were taking too long. Your dog was worried." Ignoring his sputters, the Kazekage looked around the room, eyes narrowing when he spotted the dark seals and the scroll they guarded. "Interesting."

"This is why I've been taking so long," he muttered, feeling defiant. "I don't suppose you know anything about this kind of stuff?" Gaara didn't respond, sand flowing around his shoulder and towards the alcove. It hit the barrier and rippled, trying to force its way through. The shield itself had been transparent, but it was taking on an ugly red colour, until suddenly the sand shot back, coiling around Gaara restlessly. He tilted his head, and twitched a hand. The sand moved forward, avoiding the alcove and hitting the wall around it. As Kiba watched, it began to diminish, trickles of sand worming in between the blocks of stone.

"Well, what's that gonna do?" he asked, irritated. Gaara lifted his hand and clenched it into a fist, a gesture that made Kiba's neck prickle, remembering how he had used his sand in the Chuunin Exams. There was a grating sound, and then the wall, just as the ceiling, suddenly burst, sand toppling it inward. An odd smell – kind of like blood, really – filled the air as the wavering barrier popped like a bubble, and the scroll rolled away from the wreckage. He snorted. Gaara made it all look so _easy. _Without waiting for any orders, he bent down and scooped up the scroll, examining it. It looked... normal. Well, normal except that the thing smelled of more dried blood. "Who the hell writes stuff in blood?" he demanded, about to unroll it when Gaara turned sharply.

"We should leave before Madara decides to try and extract it," he said calmly, but it was a rebuke for trying to check the contents, and they both knew it. With a snort, he slid it into his holster.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going."

Akamaru practically lunged at him when he climbed out from the base – he was using the ladder this time. Kiba tried to fend him off, and eventually pushed him back after a few sloppy licks were delivered. Gaara didn't seem to care at all, but Kiba had the feeling he would if they delayed too long. So, with some quickly murmured explanations, they were off again. If there had been urgency before, it was nothing like the need to get back to Konoha now. He barely noticed when Gaara peeled off to return to his own village.

Luckily, he had never needed to boast about his speed – though he still did. He was the fastest ninja, really – the Yellow Flash could teleport, but for sheer speed when moving, he could outpace anyone. Even the masked freak that was Madara. Regardless of what powers he was hiding, he couldn't fly through the air or run as fast as they could, and that was the one thing they could rely on. As trees flashed into sight and then back out, the only sound other than the wind whistling past was Akamaru's even breaths, each footfall a quiet thump that was practically undetectable. Konoha grew ever closer, and Kiba's caution turned to elation. They were going to make it.

An ANBU approached, and Akamaru slowed down. "Identify yourselves," the ninja called out, as if he didn't know full well who they were. But this kind of security measure worked, considering how easily someone could conceal their identity, as proven by Orochimaru and his nin.

So, rolling his eyes, he answered, "Inuzuka Kiba and Akamaru. Go ahead and yell 'Kai' all you want, we're not enemies or anything. We've got something for the Hokage."

"You were sent as a messenger," the hidden ANBU said reprovingly, and Akamaru barked, the sound as impatient as Kiba felt right now.

"Yeah, yeah, but then Gaara was there and found a base of snake-face's, and we checked it out. So I have stuff to tell the Hokage, got it? Can I go or are you going to ask me what kind of eyeliner Gaara was wearing?"

There was a heavy sigh from the bush. "Show the Kazekage some respect, Inuzuka-san. And these procedures are important –"

"I know, but they're fucking annoying," he groused. "Alright, alright, I was with the Kazekage, he did all the work and I get to report." As an afterthought, he added, "Oh, and he doesn't wear eyeliner. May I go see Tsunade-sama now?" There was a rustle from the undergrowth, and the ANBU's scent faded. Taking that as permission, they moved forward again, though Kiba leaped off once the gates were in site. They were closed, as always, now that it was definite war. The thronging crowds and gatekeepers of peacetime were a distant memory. ANBU were watching his every step, and the gates creaked open just enough to pass through. Akamaru nudged him once they were inside.

"I know, I'll tell you everything once I give this to Tsunade and have her figure out what the hell it is. Promise," he muttered, scratching the dog's ears. The trusting, assured bark that followed made his lips twitch. Getting out the scroll, he sprinted towards the Hokage Tower, pausing once when he thought he caught a scent. It had just been a breeze, though, and he growled at his own twitchiness. Next thing he'd be jumping at his shadow. It was all the security checks, the knowledge that Madara and Kabuto were running around with an army that they were perfectly capable of hiding and moving far quicker than normal, mortal shinobi. Shaking his head, he entered the building.

_High above, too high for the scent to be carried, a corpse hovered on a massive clay bird. The quiet sound of chewing melded with the slow wingbeats of the owl, and the sight of Konoha spread out below prompted a manic grin._

"Oi, Shikamaru, I need to see the Hokage."

His fellow Chuunin grimaced at him, his head propped on his hand, which in turn rested on a pile of paperwork. "You're not the only one," he drawled. "Look, Kiba, if you've got to be demanding, do it quieter. So troublesome..." Kiba rolled his eyes and waited. "I thought you were only sent to deliver a scroll to a representative of Sand. What'd you find that's so important?"

"Apparently Madara or one of his ninja were sniffing around a base nearby, and I went with Gaara to check it out." Shikamaru blinked at the Kazekage's name, and then sent a withering look that informed him that he was not making his job any easier. "And then we raided Orochimaru's base, someone had already taken almost everything and there was some funky scroll protected by these seals on the wall. Gaara got it out, I brought it back for you smarter types to look at."

_The sound of chewing stopped, and the figure flexed its fingers, molding it into a rough hummingbird. Several more followed. They scattered downward, fluttering and tiny and far too easy to miss._

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. "So you just waltzed in?"

"Well... yeah. It was weird. There weren't any traps or anything, and the whole place was a dump. The seals were active, though. They made this shield and it threw stuff back at you." Kiba shifted. Perhaps Madara had raided the whole place beforehand, but then, why hadn't he gotten the scroll? It hadn't even been well hidden.

_The hands came together. "Art is a..."_

"Look, Kiba, it sounds weird but it's probably a –"

_BANG_

The explosion wasn't, by itself, massive. Each bird didn't have the potential to do much. But they had all perched on the gates, some behind or beside guards, and the resulting detonations slammed into every ninja nearby, the gates themselves torn apart by the force of so many combined. For a moment, Kiba had the odd feeling that the earth had jolted, but he didn't have time to consider it. He was busy racing outside, gritting his teeth as a plume of smoke kept him from scenting anything. Eyes stinging, he plowed past it.

The gates were destroyed, the ground pockmarked with craters and red wood, some splintered pieces trapping or impaling the ANBU that had been stationed. The smell of blood was everywhere, confusing his senses. He hadn't realized he had stopped in his tracks until Shikamaru shook him, cursing under his breath. "Come _on_, they didn't blow the gate just to hang back and watch the show."

"I need to find Akamaru," he said dully, wincing at the sound of groans that drifted back.

"He'll find you, Kiba. Go!" There was authority in his voice, authority that Kiba had come to respect back during that first mission together, to get Sasuke back. That had been when Shikamaru had changed from the lazy-ass in the back of the class to a leader he would follow, and though words tumbled through his head, a crashing wave of worry, that Akamaru was his packmate, his brother, that he had to go find him, practicality won out. So he ran past the wrecked gates, having a sinking feeling that he knew what he would find.

Sometimes, he really, really hated when his gut was right. Just once, it'd be nice to be proved wrong when he felt that missingnin were about to attack and try to slaughter his village. A clay bird soared overhead, and he didn't need to squint to know who it was. Deidara – or the resurrected version of Deidara, which didn't make any difference because he was still a maniac that dropped bombs – was here, which meant that the other Akatsuki and their army would be popping up really soon. More explosions sounded, and he cursed – the smoke was ruining his advantage of scent, and he couldn't hear anything when stuff kept _blowing up. _

"Fuckfuckfu – woah!" Roots were spreading from under his feet, and he leaped back, hands flashing through the all too familiar handsigns. "Shikyaku no Jutsu!" The change from two legs to four was effortless, and it was his best bet when he didn't know where Akamaru was. Crouching, he waited until the Zetsu was emerging from the ground before darting forward, an almost casual swipe with one clawed hand slicing its neck. He turned, ready to finish it, but it staggered and fell. Kiba grinned, feeling the welcome effects of the jutsu. Moving like this was so much _easier_.

Unfortunately, the next enemy wasn't as easy to handle, especially not once snakes began to emerge from the forest. He could rip through most of them without any trouble, but it was significantly harder when he had to watch out for even the tiniest scratch. Not too far away he could hear Sakura yelling as she pounded some unfortunate enemy, and the scents of his friends were everywhere, a tangle that, so far, didn't bear the reek of blood. He tried to focus on his own fights, but it was _hard_, because there was a fear that gripped his chest with icy claws and refused to let go, no matter how many times he killed and narrowly avoided a hit. What if they were hurt? Madara seemed to have thousands of reserves, and they could go through ground or be returned to their coffins or whatever whenever he and Kabuto wanted. Their army could melt away without a trace. The villages couldn't do that.

_Blood and darkness and the crackle of lightning –_

His head snapped up. No way. No fucking way was _he _here. The other enemies forgotten, he tracked the scent, already knowing the three that were going to be there before him, because it was inevitable and if he couldn't let it go, they never would.

Kakashi was the one to notice him, since he was the one not actually involved in the complex fight. Naruto and Sakura flared, blue and green chakra respectively, while Sasuke just swatted away the blows, looking almost _bored_. The Copy Ninja half-turned, eye widening in surprise. "What are you doing?" He didn't bother saying anything, just flinging himself at Sasuke. The Uchiha was fast enough to dodge, but he growled and persisted, knowing that he was faster. Sasuke's eyes widened in recognition, and then narrowed.

"Kiba, what the hell are you doing? Get out of the way!" Sakura yelled.

"So you can do what, kill him? He messed us _all _up, not just you!" he howled back, narrowly avoiding the lightning-sheathed blade. "You already had your chance!" He moved desperately. Just one hit, _one _before Sasuke activated his Sharingan and figured out his movements. He pushed as much as he could, moving as fast as possible, trying to feint. And slowly, but surely, Sasuke stopped dodging, but blocking and reacting. Both Sakura and Naruto were yelling at him now, but he didn't bother to listen.

The tomoe wheeled and he felt the lurch in his chest as Sasuke effortlessly started to match him. He could see the contempt in his eyes, so far gone from the simple arrogance that they once all had as genin. He almost considered trying to get away – staying in a heated battle wasn't his speciality anyways – but he had chosen to do this, and damn it, he wasn't about to give up. Naruto never had, as proven when the blond idiot sailed past, a whirling ball of chakra distracting Sasuke from slicing him open.

Typical – he had wanted to keep Naruto from bruising himself more on the rock that was Sasuke's indifference. The bastard couldn't care less that Naruto and Sakura wanted him back, and he knew that _hurt _them. He could see it in their eyes, and it hurt the rest too. Sasuke needed to die, but it seemed he wasn't good enough, had _never _been good enough to accomplish that.

That realization stung. He had insisted – along with the others – that Sasuke was a threat to everyone. He had wanted to shout down all of Naruto's protests because he had known that Sasuke was just a poison to Team Seven, one that would kill them. He thought he could handle it, that he could do _something _to keep them from killing themselves with their stupid quest. Maybe with Akamaru, he could have, but alone he wasn't capable of it. He threw himself into a Tsuga, not minding the disorientation as he spun, tracking Sasuke with his scent and knowing that it still wouldn't be enough – he would just keep dodging and move out of the way just in time, and by himself there was no way he could measure up against an empowered Sharingan.

Sasuke finally smirked when he came to a stop, the world careening into stability again. A thin line of red on his shoulder and some ripped cloth for all that effort, as good as wasted. "It seems you cut me," he remarked, the scorn clear in his eyes. "But you shouldn't have bothered. You can do nothing against the power of an Uchiha. Isn't it true that you Inuzuka can't do anything without a dog helping you?"

Naruto growled something under his breath, too jumbled together for Kiba to make out. He was too furious to bother anyways, practically bristling with anger. "Where the fuck do you get off," he snarled. "And that makes you so much better, when you're Madara's little lapdog?" That hit – he smirked as Sasuke stiffened, eyes narrowing.

"Kiba..." That was Sakura's voice, concerned and regretful and he knew that she knew what he was trying to do. It didn't matter, though. Nothing seemed to matter, because Sasuke was totally focused on him, and the smirk on his own face was turning into a tight, savage grin.

"I might be a dog, but you're just a tool and a pair of eyes for Kabuto to take when this is done," he mocked.

Sasuke stared at him, even the anger in his eyes cold and venomous. "When this is done, there will be nothing left of Konoha."

And that was it, really. The sheer _arrogance _and the lack of feeling when he said it, as if all he cared about was Konoha's destruction, and that he could be dead for all he cared, after that... It sent chills up Kiba's spine. The only thing that helped was the familiar scent wafting towards him, away from the silent tableau of Team Seven and him as the outsider that stuck out. Their festering hatreds and regrets filled the air. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to go find his own team and help Hinata and Shino and try not to worry about the rest of his pack. But he _was _here, and there had been too much of this. Sure, Naruto could become the Hokage, and he would follow him then, but this stupid _bond _was crushing him, crushing Sakura.

So he sneered and laughed in defiance of the end of the world that he saw in Sasuke's eyes, because Naruto's eyes burned with a purpose, and all he could hope for was that the fire would overcome the cold red ice that whirled in the Sharingan.

No one had noticed anything – good. He was happy he had taught Akamaru how to be silent, for stealth, once he had started growing and could no longer rely on his size to hide him. "You know what? Fuck you and your owner," he spat, launching himself forward again. This time, it was different – not the effortless flow to counter from the Sharingan, that was the same, but there was more intensity behind each blow. His backtalk had really gotten to him, which made him grin more. So the Uchiha still had a weak spot, or several. The first time Sasuke drew blood, he blew it off, ignoring the cut on his shoulder because, though it throbbed, he had worse.

It was the second time that made him stagger and realize that the Uchiha was right – he couldn't do anything worthwhile without Akamaru, because there was a weird rushing in his head and he wished Naruto and Sakura would stop _screaming_. The third time made him fall, and his eyes slid closed at the impact, and when he opened again he was staring into eyes the colour of blood, tainted by black that whirled and spun and tugged at him until he felt like he was going to throw up. There was a glint of steel.

...Oh, that explained it. It was kind of funny, really, that he had irritated the bastard enough to take him seriously. There were no cutting remarks now, and he didn't open his mouth, because he'd spit up blood and then Sakura would shriek again. Sasuke didn't say anything, which meant that maybe he had won a bit of respect, which would have been nice if he wasn't pretty sure about what was going to happen next.

Man, this would mean Sakura would cry, or something, like girls always did. That was stupid – she wouldn't be able to see properly when she punched Sasuke in the face and crushed his skull. She certainly could do that, he had seen her do it, and Naruto would make the best Hokage, even if he was an idiot that Kiba liked to brag to. Sakura was a pretty girl, and really beautiful in battle, when she punched stuff and made it explode with force, and he suddenly wished he had hung out with her more and heard her call him an idiot and threaten him because he didn't think he was going to hear it again. Or hear Rock Lee and Gai go through that creepy routine of theirs, or see Kurenai-sensei's baby, or tease Hinata and see how red her cheeks would go. He wouldn't even be able to get angry at Shino for saying something in fifteen words that took two... Fuck it, he hated that he knew how they would feel about this.

Sasuke tilted his head to the side. "You were fast," he acknowledged, hefting the sword, poised to thrust. Kiba just stared at him, feeling blood ebb away from his back and shoulder, and wishing he would just get it _over _with before he got any more morbid thoughts. At the last moment, the Uchiha hesitated. "Where's your dog?" he asked, and Kiba grinned, feeling the blood trickle down his chin.

_Got you, fucker._

There was no one faster than him and Akamaru – they had surprised Madara, and Sasuke was no better, turning at the last second, when it was already far too late. Akamaru's jaws clamped down on his shoulder, digging in deeply before he tore and leaped away, snarling and, to Kiba, the most beautiful thing in the world. He tried to say his name, but caught himself, because though Sasuke was staggering, he was still alive, and Akamaru was turning, ready to leap for the throat –

_Fire and death and forbidden knowledge – _

"I think that's enough playing around," a voice intoned, and a blade appeared, as if by magic, piercing Akamaru before withdrawing. Kiba watched with horror, hating how cold he felt. He couldn't _move_. Akamaru whimpered and collapsed, white fur stained with his blood, still moving weakly.

Mismatched eyes passed across him without a pause, dismissing him as Madara brandished his sword. "Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura and Uzumaki Naruto... Having a reunion, Sasuke?" The younger Uchiha said nothing, clutching his shoulder with a grimace. "Well, it's lucky that we've met. I have, after all, a vested interest in the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi."

The air seemed filled with tension, clashing chakras and killing intent, and Kiba just wished he could have distracted Sasuke properly and killed him. He didn't want to think about Akamaru's still body right now, and his vision was all weird anyways, the colour dripping out of the world, until Madara's black cloak seemed to be the most solid thing. He was pathetic, really, unable to stand up against anyone – he couldn't do anything right. He hadn't been able to, even back when they were trying to get Sasuke back, and he had to have help... There wasn't any help coming now, not when Madara was attacking in earnest. They were well and truly screwed.

Time slipped past, and he barely registered the battle cries or the reverbration as Saukra punched the ground. He did know that he noticed her falling, and the smell of blood would have made him retch if he had the energy to. He saw Naruto, golden and burning brightly like the sun, all heat and righteous anger, but Madara barely seemed to do anything, and there were snakes that distracted him and kept him from attacking. Mocking and serious and angered voices all blended together, pounding in his head with what he already know.

They had lost.

All of them had, and it might even have been his fault, for trying so hard, for not doing something else. Maybe he could have killed Kabuto, or found Akamaru and ripped Sasuke's throat and fled, or done _something _beyond get himself and his partner and everyone else killed. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, he wanted to explain. He had never wanted this, he had tried to save everyone, and protect them, and not lead them to their deaths...

The silence chilled him, and when he managed to focus on anything, he saw bodies: Akamaru's, Sakura's, Kakashi's, with snakes and a few Zetsu clones and some ninja he had never seen. It didn't matter, because Naruto was gone and Sasuke had vanished and Madara was probably somewhere doing whatever else he needed to get the Kyuubi out. It was quiet enough that when he heard claws scrabble against the dirt, he tried to sit up, heart suddenly threatening to shatter into a million pieces. Akamaru whimpered and he clawed desperately, swearing inwardly at his muscles until he heaved himself up off the ground, arms buckling. Flopping over onto his stomach, he tried to ignore the dull, persistent feeling of blood draining away. If he could only crawl, he would do that – anything to get to him. The distance felt like an eternity of pain and waiting and wishing this hadn't happened, and when he was finally close enough to see fur matted with blood, and eyes glazing over, he suddenly couldn't stop himself from sobbing.

Akamaru whined again, and nudged his hand with his muzzle, and he choked on blood and tears and a spiky regret that rose up and threatened to crush him. Another nudge, and his hand fell on something papery, and when he finally dared to look, he saw the ill-fated scroll he had taken from Orochimaru's base. Orochimaru knew ways to resurrect the dead, and hope leaped suddenly. He could use that kind of jutsu, if he had enough chakra... Trembling, bloodied hands unrolled it, trying so hard not to rip the paper, and he squinted to read the faded writing, the characters squirming in his sight.

_Blood transcends time. Blood transcends life. Blood transcends. Blood._

Below it was a neat column of characters, Kabuto's writing, admitting that the thing was more like some sort of prophetic gibberish than a jutsu, and the only thing worth noting was the odd seal shown beside the inscription, to be studied at a later time. For a moment, he almost tried to simply rip the scroll to shreds, disappointment making him shake. All this time, and all this effort, and the one thing he had salvaged was utterly useless. He had no idea what the seal did, or what the scroll meant, and he couldn't have bothered with it, but Akamaru's eyes were still locked on him and the light in them was fading.

"This has to... fucking be worth something," he spat, and he tried to stretch to one of his wounds, when his partner struggled to rise, half-falling and whining the whole time, but he shoved himself against Kiba, and for a moment all he could do was stare at the wound in his side, the fur under his hands completely wet with blood. "No..." Akamaru's tail wagged once, a silent encouragement, and Kiba clenched his hand painfully into a fist before he finally reached out and touched the wound, hand coming away bloodied. He trembled as he sketched the seal onto the paper, watching as the blood dripped. For a moment he thought he saw something lighter coil around the scroll, like red chakra, but when he stopped, he didn't see anything other than his own shaking hand, and Akamaru whined pleadingly so he kept going.

"This is fucking stupid," he told himself, and his dog, and the whole doomed world that had let this happen. "I don't even know what it'll do..." But he completed it and stared at the weird squiggles, ten of them, that surrounded a circle of characters, an unbroken chain. He stared because he had no idea what to do next, and when he tried to summon up chakra, the world greyed and spots flickered in his eyes. Gasping, he shook his head. It was no use – he couldn't do anything, like usual. Useless when he needed to help his pack, or even himself. Akamaru seemed to know he was at his limit, and simply settled against him, head resting beside his. "I'm so... sorry," he whispered.

He was shaking more, now, and he was intensely happy that Akamaru was here, with him, to the last. He clutched weakly at his partner's fur, waiting until they were curled up together, as if nothing had happened and they were just going to sleep. Akamaru licked his cheek, slowly, and though he knew how much that had to cost him, he tried to pretend he didn't see it, because they were dying and he wasn't going to go out without smiling when Akamaru was there. It wouldn't have been fair. He let his head fall onto the failed scroll, not caring that the bloody seal pressed into his cheek, wet and unpleasantly familiar. There was blood everywhere – some more wouldn't make any difference. Red swarmed around his vision, lighter than the Sharingan or Akamaru's blood, and he closed his eyes to block it out, feeling Akamaru grow still, breath hissing out, warm and ruffling his hair.

So this was the end. Failing in everything. He had wanted to be the leader, to protect and help everyone, and in the end, he had failed all of them. Still, he smiled into the ground, and didn't question the sudden tremor and coughing fit that struck, leeching his strength. When it finally abated, his head had turned, forehead against the scroll, and he waited until he was sure that Akamaru wasn't breathing before he allowed himself to feel the cold, and the bitter regret and self loathing. Inuzuka Kiba fell into the darkness, and for the first time, was truly alone.

_-armageddon end-_


	3. Solitude

**AN: **And so we begin.

**Phase 3: Solitude**

There was a red moon in the afterlife. This, Kiba decided, was totally not fair. The Akatsuki had been haunting his world for far too long, and now their name was in the afterlife, living on and reminding him. The afterlife seemed oddly boring, though. Other than the red moon, everything was grey, like an oil painting that hadn't been finished. Wisps of cloud, oddly rounded and looking less than real, drifted past his face, and when he reached out to touch one, his hand just passed through.

There was a nagging feeling that something was missing, and it didn't take him long to figure it out. Akamaru wasn't with him, and he spent several minutes looking around, growing steadily more frustrated. Damn it! They had died _together_, it wasn't fair to be separated like this. The air stung his nose when he tried to take a breath, and he growled. There was no scent to follow, even when he cast around for a moment. The question of movement didn't really matter. If he was in heaven, or the afterlife, or whatever, he sure as hell should be able to move. Right now, though, he wanted to find a god or three and beat them up for not bringing him in with Akamaru. What kind of pathetic afterlife was it if he didn't have his brother, let alone the rest of his pack? The people he had cared for and tried to protect, and bickered with and _loved_...

Tears prickled, and he willed them away with righteous fury. He wasn't going to stand – or was he floating? - here and cry about it, that was for sure. He was an Inuzuka, after all. If they weren't here, he'd find them! With a goal in mind, he felt better, and he grinned as he began to run through the flat air, ignoring the odd void of scents whenever he breathed in. There wasn't any time to worry about that. Even without a scent, he'd find his dog, and then he'd find everyone else.

Nothing changed in the afterlife, no matter how much he moved. Or at least, that was what Kiba assumed, but after a while he realized that the moon was drifting closer as he ran. He hadn't tired yet, and even when he changed directions, he continued to run upwards, towards the moon. It had never looked benign, but now it was downright unnerving – shades of lighter and dark red swirled around each other on its surface, most of it the colour of blood. The lighter parts shimmered, and he had the impression that they were moving, somehow. There was something about it that made him want to bristle and lash out, but plainly it was the only thing he could go towards, so he stubbornly kept running, squashing the fear that threatened to rise up as it got closer. It felt so _wrong_, but the air was gradually changing. It no longer hurt to take a breath – in fact, he could breathe easily, as if he was alive and well, and though there was no breeze, there were faint traces of smells for him to pick up. After the absence of everything familiar to his nose, it was almost a relief.

He stopped when he considered the moon almost too close for comfort, a seemingly flat disc that, if he squinted, he would have said was only about ten metres away. It wasn't even much larger than it had been before – wasn't the moon supposed to be massive? It was about the size of Konoha's gates, perhaps a bit smaller. Large, sure, but definitely not _moon_-sized. Then again, it was the afterlife. It probably didn't matter. If a god had made this, he was sure they wouldn't have cared what the moon looked like, or if the place was boring as hell or not.

From here, he could see that the moon was the colour of blood – what had been lighter shades were odd coils of _something _that wrapped around it, shifting ever so often. Looking at them for too long made his stomach churn, and there was this _tug _towards the moon, something he was sure he hadn't felt before. He breathed in shakily, and his eyes widened. There had been faint scents before, traces as if something had passed through here, but now... this close, he could smell _normal _things. Fresh air, wood, the smell of his own clothing, something cooking...

All overlaid with the smell of blood, as if the moon was tainting it. Kiba shuddered. Was this really an afterlife? Or was this some sort of hell, a prison for him?

The strange coils around the moon moved again, and he had to avert his gaze, wondering why they looked so familiar. He was sure he had never seen anything like that, but the way they weren't quite transparent... it nagged at him. The coils didn't settle, and kept moving around, and his stomach kept lurching whenever he saw it, so he turned away completely, wishing it didn't feel like eyes were watching him.

This was fucking stupid. Weird red tentacle-things didn't have eyes. The _moon _didn't have eyes. Neither did the clouds...

His mind finally noticed what his senses had been telling him, and he scowled. The clouds had disappeared, and they probably had been gone for a while. The moon had so dominated the landscape that he had barely even taken note of it. That was bad. He knew he usually rushed into things – always, even – but he had to _think _here, in this weird heaven/hell/whatever the fuck it was. Another shift, a ripple from the moon, and he turned back, eyes widening, just in time to spot ten long limbs extend from behind it, hovering menacingly. He tried to step back, but the air had turned to ice, and he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and it felt like something was exploding in his chest as the limbs reached out for him. Terror would have made him freeze anyways, if he hadn't already been paralyzed.

As if to taunt him, he finally made the connection just as the coils shot past him, curving and slamming into his back. It didn't hurt, he didn't feel any pain – but the impact made him stagger, breath coming out in a wheeze, and he was propelled forward.

Chakra. They looked like they were made of red chakra. And the moon... it wasn't one, after all, but some sort of gate. He could see light behind it, dull and bloodied and it was the farthest from anywhere that he had wanted to go.

He sank into the gate – or moon or whatever the fuck it was now – as if it was water, but he felt nothing. He still couldn't breathe, but it hurt less now, so maybe he couldn't die or even pass out in... wherever he was. The chakra wrapped around him, a shifting tapestry of light. It would have been beautiful, but it felt like it was crushing him with sheer dread. Kiba closed his eyes, trying to block it out somehow, trying to think of how he had gotten here in the first place, and how much he had _failed_, and the grip loosened. He couldn't die, but he wouldn't let himself be stopped here. He had to fix things somehow, some way to repay his actions, how stupid he had been... He had wasted his life taunting and mocking others, when it turned out to be weak, clumsy Naruto who had burned with the Will of Fire and helpless Sakura that had blossomed into a deadly flower, and he had never told anyone how much he _cared_.

His heart hurt, and when he finally tried to open his eyes again, he found himself rushing forward. Disorientation set in – he wasn't moving, but he _was_, weightless and unable to control his actions, being pushed by the mass of chakra. If he squinted, he thought he saw a light, something that didn't look like blood, and he wasted a second to hope and –

Air. Sweet, beloved air, which he vowed he would never take for granted ever again, but it didn't distract him from the sudden, sweeping view of Konoha. It morphed into a battleground, with a sky darkening into sunset and the ruins bloody, and his heart squeezed, but then it returned to what he had remembered; a proud, bustling city in peacetime. And then it faded away into red mist, and when he finally flinched and reached out, there was nothing left to hold onto.

And then he fell.

Reflexes honed by battles and long, wearying missions and far too much training forced him to flinch and try to land properly, and it was only when his hands gripped smooth wooden floor that he forced his eyes open again.

Wooden floor. Not all that smooth, really – he could find grooves where dog claws had scratched it, over and over again. It smelled heart-achingly familiar, though, and if he hadn't been able to still feel his blood slowly draining away, or the crushing feeling of the acid trip he had just taken, Inuzuka Kiba might just have collapsed and cried.

This couldn't be happening. Well, it _could _be, but as likely as that he had been running around before drowning in a bloody moon in the afterlife. Unless this was the afterlife and the other hadn't been... But that line of thought was making his head hurt, so instead he just looked around.

Old clothes, too small for him now, were all piled up in the room, making comfortable heaps on the floor if he didn't want to sleep on his bed. That was... so similar to how he had actually done it, if a bit messier. The room reeked of him and Akamaru, and when he finally dared to look for him...

No.

No, no, no fucking way was this _real_.

A painfully small clone of Akamaru was curled up near him, ears flopping and paws all tangled together.

This was impossible, Kiba's dazed mind babbled. He had gotten hit with a Mangekyou or something, or maybe he had been bitten by a snake and didn't notice and _this whole thing _had just been a reaction to the poison and he was going to die horribly while reliving memories or something. But he had already died, which was not making sense, but neither was staring at the puppy that was Akamaru when he remembered Akamaru being the size of a large pony and having quite a few more scars.

It was a trap. Or a trick. Or both. Or maybe this was the messed up version of the afterlife when he was tired of running towards a fucking moon.

But Akamaru was right _there_, so tiny and vulnerable and _alive _that he wanted to curl up around him and protect him forever so he would never, ever lose him again. His scent seemed real enough, and he was about to reach out a hand to touch the fur, to reassure himself, when he noticed that something felt... off. He had been certain he could reach, but his arm was... shorter. When he bothered to examine it, it lacked the longer claws, and his hands were, well, not _soft_, but not as toughened and scarred as he was used to.

He was looking at... younger hands. Younger, shorter arms too. "This is insane," he murmured, voice surprisingly faint, but he still flinched, eyes fixed on his dog. Akamaru stirred, blinking sleepily, and lifted his head. He couldn't be sure if this was a nightmare or the best genjutsu ever, but a flare of panic raced up his spine as Akamaru stared at him, and he automatically moved into a ready position to move away.

That, of course, was his mistake. Because he had, when he was younger - not bothered with being ready at all times thanks to missions and surprise attacks and having people try to kill him at 4 in the morning when he was sleeping – simply lounged, and relied on superior reflexes to get him out of the way. He hadn't tensed up or memorized exits or did any of the necessary stuff that any skilled Chuunin would have told him he would eventually drill into his head to stay alive. No, because when he had been a kid – really a kid, before Orochimaru had sacked Konoha and Naruto had become a leader to respect – he had relaxed and would never, ever have seen any sort of movement as a threat.

He felt off-balance, something that bothered him because he wasn't sure if he could even move properly right now, and Akamaru no longer looked half as sleepy. The pup had tilted his head, catching his scent, assuring himself that it was Kiba, but his ears had twitched back and his tail was raised.

"_You are not him," _he snarled, and Kiba dimly remembered that Akamaru's body language had been loud and clear when he was a pup, before stealth assassinations and being a scout made every movement slow and controlled. Of course, this didn't help because this Akamaru couldn't be real. Not after the battle. Not after everything.

So all he really did was stay tensed and blink. "What?"

He wasn't sure what he expected – more accusations, maybe Akamaru even being afraid – but for some reason, the fact that this was his dog kept him from predicting that he would receive a faceful of fur as the puppy flung himself at him. He... well, for no better word for it, he flailed around, feeling the dog's claws scratch him and needle-sharp teeth sink into the tip of his nose. Still, the pain-filled moment told him a great many things. First, that furious puppies were absolute _hell _to get off of your face. Second, that his arms were far shorter than he remembered and that he lacked the strength he was used to. Third, that when bitten in the nose, his stream of curses turned into a yelp any terrier would have been proud of.

"Fuck it, I'm sorry!" he yelled when Akamaru released him, panting. The sympathy he had felt for the pup was replaced by frustration and the sudden need to prove that he was no threat. "I don't know what's going on anymore than you do!" There was a pause, and he felt more than a twinge of regret when he finally reached up and hefted Akamaru, staring at him.

"_You smell right, but you move wrong." _His body language was uncertain, head canted to the side and ears twitching back and then forward. _"You say you don't know?"_

"Hell, all I know is that you and I should be dead," he growled. Then something hit him. This couldn't be genjutsu, because surely no one could replicate a dog's body language in an illusion. No way someone could perfect it to be that intricate. And the afterlife was out of the question, because he could feel the scratches from Akamaru's claws, and heaven was probably not being savaged by a younger version of his dog anyways. Which meant...

_ - How his mind leaped to the conclusion, so eagerly. The perfect tool -_

He was in the past. Akamaru proved that, simply by being there. He was in the past, and had taken the place of... Inuzuka Kiba. He felt a grin tugging at his face, growing wider and wider. He could _fix _things.

"No fucking way. No... no way. This is amazing!" he whooped, eyes brightening. Akamaru just stared at him, fur on end, and he realized that some reassurance was necessary. "Sorry, I – I... I'm from the future. And I died, and you were with me, and you died too, and it was my fault because I was stupid and confident and everyone died because of me. But I can do things differently now, I can fix things!"

"_No."_

He lifted his head, looking at Akamaru in confusion. "What?"

"_You cannot fix things. Where is Kiba? My Kiba? You are not him. Where is he?"_

"I..." He didn't know, couldn't say, and the puppy snarled at him. Kiba had an idea that they were going to repeat clawing at his face again, but there was a knock on the door, familiar and making his heart clench. He turned around, and Akamaru quickly calmed down, just as his sister stuck her head in the doorway. She was refreshingly the same, brown hair tousled, eyes slightly concerned and filled with compassion as she beheld the scene.

"Kiba, what happened to your face?"

He flushed, trying desperately to think of a good lie. "Um... Akamaru had a nightmare and I slept too close to him," he muttered, ashamed that he was lying to his sister. She blinked. He didn't blame her sudden suspicion, because it was a very lame excuse and he couldn't believe anyone would buy that, but she just tilted her head and laughed.

"Right, you dope. You're a ninja now, so you can't sleep so heavily. I'll get my pack to lick your ears when you fall asleep~" Kiba couldn't school the sudden surprise that showed on his face. A ninja now? "So go clean your scratches and get to the Academy, you have to look presentable for your new sensei." She considered him for a moment. "Why are you so pale? You're not sick from worry or anything like that, are you?" Hana reached out to touch his forehead and he leaped to his feet.

"No way! I just was thinking about how I can't wait until Naruto sees just how much more awesome I am as a genin than he'll ever be," he boasted.

That didn't keep him from noticing the suddenly veiled look in his sister's eyes, though her words didn't carry the acrid tone he was expecting. "I thought he didn't pass," was all she merely said, and he stumbled for a moment.

"Oh – oh yeah, he did. Oh well, I'll still beat him at everything. Or at least Sasuke, because he's so smug!" he crowed, and began to dress, pulling on clothing he hadn't imagined ever wearing again. Akamaru followed him, waiting until Hana had slipped away to go tend to her pack of dogs before going back to staring at him. The look in the pup's eyes made him nervous. That wasn't an accusation, but a challenge, as if Akamaru was going to fight him for the top rank and the first one to get to eat. Seeing his dog look at him like that made everything drop into place, like a mirror with cracked glass that screwed everything up. This wasn't the past. Or if it was, his being there made things different, or something – because Akamaru didn't trust him because they didn't know each other. Kiba knew a quieter, far larger Akamaru that had become his brother and his saviour and his _life_, and Akamaru knew someone who wasn't toughened by battles and was probably still easygoing and far too lazy for his own good.

Things were wrong. But that was what he was here for, wasn't it? To make things right?

So he squatted down to peer down at the pup. "Look, I know this isn't right for either of us. But if we want to carry this off, we both need to act like everything is normal. I can't promise that I'll be the same, but I can say that I know how to make you stronger, and make sure the same thing doesn't happen again." He grabbed him, lifting a squirming bundle of fur to meet his eyes properly. "Look, you don't know what happened, but it was _bad_. Really bad. And we can change it! I don't want to see myself... myself hurting you again." Akamaru lowered his head, whining softly. Not a plea to be put down, which Kiba had expected, but he was considering it.

"_How bad?"_

"Like... like everyone is dead and Konoha is doomed bad," he choked out, gritting his teeth. "Like we were both dying and I used something from a scroll without even knowing what it was." The whine turned into a whimper, and he felt a tongue lick his wrist in comfort – but it wasn't the same. They didn't know each other, this time. It was just Akamaru pitying him. He lowered the dog to the ground and got to his feet, tying his new forehead protector in place with a sigh. "I promise I won't let that happen again. Really. I'll change thing – kill Sasuke if that snake bastard tries to get to him. I'll get stronger and stronger and then I'll save everyone and make sure we all live to see Naruto become the Hokage!"

That got him a dubious look, and he sighed again. "Sorry, Akamaru... I guess you don't know anything about that. Just... believe me when I say it was horrible, alright? If we can work together on this..." There was an affirmative yip, and he grinned shakily at his new partner. "Alright then, let's get to the Academy."

He did tend to the scratches on his face, but they were shallow, and he just washed them and tried to stroll out until he realized that someone was missing. Panic rose again, and he rushed in to ask Hana, "Where's mom?" She stared at him, somewhere between confused and aggravated.

"You sure you're not sick? She's on a mission, she told you last night."

"Oh... Oh right. Yeah." He laughed. "Sorry, forgot about it."

"Clearly. Get to the Academy before you get demoted for being late," she chided, and one of her three dogs rumbled, tail wagging as he laughed at them. Kiba obediently left, noticing that Akamaru didn't take his usual place on his head, but heeled him instead, probably still cautious. That made sense, but it made his already flagging mood sink more. The Academy looked great though, the building standing without any trouble, no holes in the roof, and after a nervous moment when he examined it for traps, there was no danger at all. Akamaru pretended not to notice, and he eased into a seat, quickly finding Shino and Hinata and trying to keep a smile from blooming on his face. They weren't his teammates yet, but he couldn't help it – they had been his pack, would always be his pack.

They all looked so different though – different, but familiar. Nostalgia was hitting him in waves. Shino didn't look different, really, just smaller and probably with less bugs, but Hinata was... huddled. She was far smaller than he remembered, and looked frail. He snorted. She probably was still being screwed over by her clan for being "too _weak_", and he knew that he was going to change that. In the future, Hinata was awesome and kicked ass! He'd just make sure she kicked ass a lot earlier around, this time.

When Naruto strode in, proclaiming – very loudly – that he deserved to be here, Kiba almost had to stop himself from approaching him. They were acquaintances, not friends... Suddenly, he could see the boundaries of the class, carefully placed, when he had never noticed them before. Was it because Naruto was an idiot, or because he was a jinchuuriki? No one even knew, except maybe the Chuunin that taught them. But parents told kids to stay away, and even his sister hadn't liked hearing his name.

That was about as fair as the Hyuuga clan, and he resolved that if he couldn't be packleader, he'd at least make sure that there was a _good _one, and if he had to force everyone to respect Naruto, well, he would.

"Yo, you look pretty proud of that, but the missions we're going to have are going to be really tough," he challenged. Naruto looked at him dumbly, and he rolled his eyes. "You sure you're ready for it?"

"Hell yeah, I am! I'll beat your face into the ground with all the new jutsu I'm going to learn, Kiba!" Kiba said nothing, but he knew that, in the back of their minds, all the genin believed that this would be great, that they would be invincible and awesome and the most powerful ninja ever. Even if they had relatives who died, or parents who went on missions and returned dripping with blood from both themselves and their enemies, no one really got it until their first actual mission. Then... sometimes it was really tough. And being a genin was... disappointing. Being a ninja was disappointing. Sometimes you ended up being tricked, or betrayed, or abandoned, and in between the moments when you didn't know if you were going to live or die, you'd either be training, or sleeping and healing, or trying to get rid of the stuff you've seen.

But no one thought of that, not when they were young and stupid. Hell, he had still been young and stupid. But young ninja made the best heroes, didn't they? Like the Fourth. Like Kakashi during the war, like the whole damn class he had grown up with and gotten to know. They weren't scared of dying yet...

He realized Naruto was staring at him, and he laughed scornfully. "Yeah, yeah. I know, you'll get great jutsu and be the Hokage. But Akamaru and me'll have even _better _jutsu, and you'll have to get through us before you can ever hope to be Hokage!" And with that swaggering boast, he sat back down and grinned at his classmates, who were looking relatively confused. Naruto looked... odd, though, and Kiba wondered if this was the first time any of them had acknowledged his goal as reachable, even in banter.

But the blond only grinned back at him. "Yeah, well, I got a super-powerful jutsu and nothing you can do will ever be as good!" he proclaimed and... calmed down. He then wandered over to pester Sasuke, but it seemed their little argument had kept the jinchuuriki from annoying too many other people.

Akamaru was watching this carefully, and finally remarked, head tilted quizzically_"You like him?"_

Careful to keep his voice down as Iruka entered, he muttered, "Yeah. He looks like an idiot, but he turns out to be a great ninja."

Iruka cleared his throat and he dutifully turned his attention towards the Chuunin. The rest went on as planned, though this time he was on edge as Iruka got to Team Seven.

"Team Seven... Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke!" Kiba hadn't gotten a good look at the prodigy before, but he chanced one now, and found him... annoyingly impassive, just staring at the wall as if plotting to kill someone. He had always been a jerk, but now that he knew what he was capable of, Kiba wanted to snarl at him, pin him to the floor and demand that he never consider doing anything for more power. Or better yet, just kill him now and keep him from becoming Orochimaru's and Madara's little pet later.

"Team Eight..." Kiba had to jerk his thoughts away from killing the Uchiha, and listened intently. "Kiba, Shino and Hinata." He whooped and shot an elated look at his teammates. Hinata smiled at him, the expression tentative, and Shino just stared, but... it didn't matter. They were a team again! He barely listened as Iruka continued to assign teams, knowing they wouldn't matter. Everything was as it should be in the beginning, but now he would make everything better.

Akamaru barked once to draw his attention when Iruka left, because he was still smiling off into space, not listening to anything at all. Once he focused, he stood up to sit by his teammates, waving a hand in jaunty greeting before he slumped into a new seat. "Oi, it's nice to know I'm on a team with people I can stand," he commented. "Just don't do anything to Akamaru, and we'll get along fine!" This accompanied with a fierce smile to show off his fangs. Shino looked uneffected, which was too bad, but Hinata quickly looked up.

"Ah – Kiba-kun, I'm sure neither of us would ever hurt Akamaru! He's a cute puppy, and I can't imagine anyone trying to harm him..." she hastened to reassure him, blank eyes wide, and he had to cut her off with a bark of a laugh.

"Geez, calm down! I was just joking. I know someone like you wouldn't hurt him, Hinata. Ease up a little, we're not going to bite you." She flushed, and Shino raised an eyebrow, but neither said anything and he settled in to wait for their sensei. He didn't need to wait long, and after about five minutes Kurenai came in. She looked almost like a completely different person than when he had last seen her, calm and composed, red eyes not giving anything away when she looked at them. The last time he had seen his old sensei during the war... well, no one had been composed then. She had been most likely dead, and her child with her, when Madara had attacked...

"Kiba-kun, is something wrong?" Hinata asked him, and he blinked.

"Oh... no, I'm fine," he told her. "Sorry about that." She just nodded shyly, and Kiba inwardly sighed. Hinata was always... nice, but how easily she blended into the background had always bothered him. Kurenai walked over, smiling pleasantly as she looked them over.

"You're all Team Eight?"

"Yes," Shino answered, the first word he had said since Kiba had gotten here. His voice was even, like always. No emotion in it, almost clinical. It had taken a lot of time for him to get used to it...

"Well, my name is Kurenai, and I'll be your sensei. If you'd like to come with me?" She led them outside to a park, a pleasant enough place to hang around. Sitting on benches facing her, his team relaxed, and Kiba took the time to breathe in scents he felt like he hadn't smelled in centuries. Flowers, pollen, the heady air of spring in the Land of Fire... How could he not like it? Especially considering that he hadn't had the time to relax in ages, not with missions and training for them. Akamaru still didn't approach him, preferring to gnaw on a stick while listening, and though that hurt, he was too cheerful now to feel abandoned.

Kurenai sat down on the ground, unbothered by the grass, and he couldn't help smiling – his sensei was quiet, but never insane about keeping clean and away from filth. "Now, as I said inside, my name is Kurenai. Since we're going to be a team, why don't you introduce yourselves, and tell me your strengths and weaknesses? That way, I'll be able to determine if our team could specialize in something, and how to train each of you to complement the other."

Kiba spoke up before the others could, sprawling out on his seat with a lazy grin. "I'm Inuzuka Kiba, and this is Akamaru. We're partners, so we're good at working together." Or were. "Er... we've both got a really good sense of smell, and we can gauge chakra levels by people's scents, and sometimes if they're afraid because scared people sweat. We can understand each other, and we're fast too. We have our own taijutsu, too. But..." He wouldn't have admitted this when he was younger and invincible. "I don't plan stuff out well, you know? I like to rush into things on instinct."

Kurenai leveled a kind look and smile at him. "Very good, Kiba. Next?"

Shino glanced at Hinata, and seeing her bow her head, spoke up. Shino always did that sort of thing – he was quiet and sort of creepy at first, but he tended to notice things and adapt to them, and he was nice when he wasn't trying to freak someone out. "Aburame Shino. I am host to a clan of kikai bugs, and can either syphon chakra or use them to track and scout. My taijutsu is above average, but I am weak to fire jutsu and if my colony is destroyed..." He made a shrugging movement, but the wrinkle on his forehead stated that Shino would _not _be pleased if such came to pass. "I am far less effective."

Kurenai nodded, and gestured to Hinata. "And you?"

"Ah... I'm Hyuuga Hinata. I have the Byakugan, so I can see through things, as well as chakra or take a look at something far away. I also know the Gentle Fist style of taijutsu, but... um, I am not very good at it yet." Kurenai was smiling encouragingly now, and Kiba wanted to get up and smash some random clan member's face in, because Hinata's head was totally bowed and her eyes were on the ground, as if she was too ashamed of herself to look up.

"Eh, don't worry about that, that's what being a genin is for, isn't it?" he interrupted, knowing it was rude. However, sometimes – or a lot of the time, really, people just didn't understand this – rudeness was necessary to snap someone out of a sulk and make them _pay attention_, and he was determined to make Hinata feel better no matter what! "You'll get better as you go along! We'll do great and kick ass, won't we sensei?" Hinata looked vaguely horrified and confused, Kurenai vaguely amused and still kind, and Shino... vaguely Shino-like, meaning Kiba couldn't read him at all.

Akamaru stopped pretending to gnaw on his stick, and walked over to hop up onto Hinata's lap, licking her face with enthusiasm. She quickly lifted her head, if only to protect it from the puppy, and laughed softly. "Ah – Akamaru, stop it..." Kiba decided to look triumphant as if it had been totally his idea, though Akamaru, once he subsided and trotted over to curl up on the bench beside him, snorted.

"_She was frightened. You are not good at not scaring her," _he complained, tone accusing.

"It's not my fault," he shot back softly, and thumped the dog on the head before turning back to his sensei.

"Thank you, all of you. Hinata, please don't worry, as Kiba said, skill grows with time, and with the training I'll put you all through, you'll all improve dramatically. It seems I'm lucky, though! Your skills are perfect for a reconnaissance team. I'll be sure to test your combat skills, but I'll also make sure your teamwork and ability to track and scout is superior to any other team's. Now, I suppose I haven't said anything about me. I specialize in genjutsu, the art of illusions, and though that doesn't sound dangerous, it is one of the most deadly fields, and requires precision and excellent chakra control," she told them, tilting her head to one side. "I'll teach you some basic skills to counter genjutsu, see the flaws in the forms you'll most likely encounter them in, and perhaps some illusions, though don't be surprised if you find them difficult."

With that, she clapped her hands. "You're supposed to be given time today to chat, mingle and do whatever you like before the test and then the missions start, so I'll leave you to that. I'll be expecting you here tomorrow, at 8 in the morning, though!" It was clearly a dismissal, and Kurenai disappeared in a swirl of leaves. Kiba found himself fidgeting and wondering what he should do. Go check on the other teams?

"It appears that we are to focus on teamwork. Perhaps lengthier introductions are in order," Shino observed, making him jump. "Are you averse to that?"

"I – no, of course not!" he retorted, bristling a little. "What do you want to do?"

"What do you think, Hinata?" the bug-user asked instead, making the girl flinch.

"I – ah... perhaps we could talk some more? Maybe train a bit..."

"That sounds adequate. Kiba?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine with it. Let's go, unless you want to sit here and watch Akamaru chase squirrels."

"I wouldn't mind..."

"Perhaps a social setting would not be fitting for our first meeting as a team."

"So here is fine? Tch, alright."

And with that, Kiba sprawled out on the bench fully, and Akamaru curled up on his stomach, a gesture that he appreciated, even if the pup twitched an ear and eyed him suspiciously every time he moved too much. Trust... he didn't think he'd get that anytime soon, or even ever, but he was trying to be _happy_ because his _team _was here and reunited and everything was alright.

Except where it wasn't.

Akamaru was the start of it, but Shino just stared blankly without emotion, and Hinata's gaze was still locked on the ground, and he could tell that all the bonds they had later on... they didn't exist yet. They were just a group of kids and a dog who didn't trust each other, didn't even really like each other... and it was getting him down. Yeah, the missions they would do would improve all that, but he wanted everything good to be like it had been during the war – except, of course, without the war and Madara running around brainwashing people.

It just... it felt so wrong to be here, with them, and know things that they didn't. It felt like he was betraying them somehow, by being from the future and intruding on their lives.

He coughed. "So... you wanted to talk?"

Hinata _still _didn't look up. "Yes... I thought we should get to know each other. So, Kiba-kun, your clan specializes in fighting with your dogs?"

"Yeah."

"That's so interesting. Will Akamaru grow a lot bigger? Can he talk?"

The fact that she was asking had stunned him a little, so he fidgeted as he answered. "Yeah, probably. I don't know about talking... My mom's partner, Kuromaru, he's huge and can talk, but my sister's dogs can't yet. What about you, Shino? Care to tell us about your bugs?"

He turned slightly, and Kiba had to admit that his body language was the most restrained he'd seen of any ninja, other than the freaks from Akatsuki. He just kept himself still all the time, like a predator waiting for something to pass by. "My colony holds bugs that suck chakra, but some females emit strong pheromones, and after I place them, I can track them from a great distance."

There didn't seem to be any other information to give, and he was surprised when Hinata spoke up again. "Ah – do either of you have any hobbies?"

"Well... yeah. I walk Akamaru, I like treehopping and racing him, sometimes I wrestle with some other dogs cause he's not big enough for it yet. I'm not much for reading or sitting still."

"I like to read," Shino said quietly. "I also tend to my colony and study them. And your hobbies, Hinata?"

She was blushing again. "I... ah, I like to read, and train," she murmured, and promptly fell silent. This didn't seem to be going anywhere. Kiba snorted and poked Akamaru.

"I'm going to get them to move a little."

"_Alright," _he answered, tail wagging as he jumped to the ground, right before Kiba flung himself off the bench.

"Alright, that's enough of staying still! You guys said you wanted to spar, right? Well then, let's do that!" Neither of his teammates objected, and he almost thought Hinata would be relieved until they actually fought. Then, he found himself wanting, yet again, to go pound some elder Hyuuga for making her so meek and uncertain. Her strikes weren't slow, but they were hesitant, and when he crossed the distance between them in a leap and lashed out at her, she flinched slightly. It wasn't being afraid to be hit – she was afraid of hurting _him_, and after a few staggered blows – he was a lot worse than usual, he found to his surprise, and blamed it on his newly reduced height – he growled and slid to a stop on all fours.

"Look, Hinata, I know we're sparring, and you have some awesome Hyuuga-only taijutsu and maybe ordinary people aren't allowed to see it –" Hinata quickly denied this and he thought he caught Shino sighing. "But you have to hit me! I'm tough, I can take getting punched, so come on..." And with that incentive, he flung himself at her again, and had to admit that she was better than before – her strikes and blocks were surer, quicker, and he had to duck and dodge a lot more than before. He would never have admitted that he was out of practice, but it damn well _felt _like it. His own strikes were far weaker than he was used to, and after a few minutes he was _tired_, though Hinata didn't look to be in much better shape.

"I think that is enough sparring," Shino observed. "Though it was of interest to see your respective taijutsu." Kiba happily stopped, breathing hard and shaking his arms out with disgust.

"I'll need to train a lot more now," he complained loudly, and managed to spot a tiny smile on Hinata's face before turned away. Hah! Success. She was feeling better after this, then. "I thought you said you were bad at this, Hinata!" He didn't let her object, and just grinned. "I'd have to bring Akamaru in to beat you!"

"Well, I..."

"So, what do you guys like to eat? Since I'm in a good mood, I'll treat you! That's a part of teamwork, right?" And that first day passed in a blur, really – he was happy, at least on the surface, and he let himself think about ordinary things, like if he scared Shino enough to make him flinch, would he actually yell – silly pranks, stuff like that. His team wasn't _his _team yet, but they would eventually be, and it was fun to joke around with them and have a contest with Shino to see who could make Hinata smile more. Not that the kikai-user ever said there was a contest, or admitted that they were doing it, but that was the _point_, and Kiba knew he was winning anyways.

Walking home with Akamaru trailing him, he watched the lamps light up. The night air was pretty sweet, especially in the parks and training areas. Luckily, his clan's home was not too far, and so they weren't bothered by people smoking or cooking or messing up their cooking – all mundane things that could irritate a keen Inuzuka nose. He had successfully avoided going near the city gates, because he knew that he'd flinch or act weird if he saw them standing proudly as they had before Deidara had wrecked them, and overall, the day had been... nice. Fun, even. He hadn't had to worry about anything, and he knew he would have to start fixing things, but a day without running or fearing for his life... that was nice. Really nice. He could get used to something like this.

And the purpose of being here was to keep things nice and peaceful, right?

Right. So, with that in mind, he went home, announced who was in his team, boasted a little to his sister and went to bed. Akamaru slept separate from him, and he didn't blame him, because the slightest noise in the house made him wake up now. After a few false alarms thanks to the Haimaru brothers sneaking around, he finally fell asleep properly.

* * *

><p><em>The moon is red, but it fades to what it is supposed to be, a calming silver. He drifts closer, puts his hand out to touch it like it is a coin, but his own face peers back at him, and he knows it is a mirror, not a coin or a moon. The surface ripples, though, like water, and his own face is odd, the expression prouder, and the scars hidden in the eyes are gone.<em>

_In the mirror, he is younger. _

_The surface ripples again, and red shadows paint the water red with blood, cutting his reflection apart, and he watches it disperse. Then he is pulled through, and watches empty space through the mirror, with no one to replace him, and the rim of the mirror – or is it a pool, he wonders in the space of an eternity – darkens to a colour like dried blood, and he thinks of a seal, and wakes._

* * *

><p>"What the hell...?" he muttered, holding his head in his hands. Akamaru whined.<p>

"_What's wrong?"_

"Nothing. A weird dream. I thought I'd get nightmares, but not..." He tried to remember, but felt it melting away. Something about water? And blood. Well, that was surprising. It wasn't like he had seen blood every day, after all... Snorting, he shook his head. "Not something I can't even remember. Oh well, whatever. I'll be late if I sit here for any longer."

* * *

><p><em>- It watches as coldly as it watches everything, all the little mortals running about and feuding and bleeding while it watches, too far away to affect the little realm that it could crush within a miniscule second of the eons it is familiar with. It watches its mortal, tied by blood, and it marks him because it tastes his desperation, and knows it for the desperation by the ones who tied before, and will tie after, because it watches and past and future and present are meaningless when it has no eyes to see the time pass and no need for anything for millenia are its birthright, and its alone. Parts of it are scattered, but there is blood now, and blood will lead it towards the rest, because blood ties together. -<em>

_- It has no concept of mercy, and feels none, but it knows that if it could, it would pity the fools who know nothing, and yet act as if all the wisdom in the world is theirs, but through their mistakes it lives on, drawing closer to completion, a circle etched in the sand slowly nearing the end, where it sinks in and engraves itself on the heart. -_

_- It can wait. -_

* * *

><p><em>-solitude end-<em>


End file.
